A New Life
by sands' gal
Summary: After Sands has his eyes removed, the CIA send him back to Mexico with a new partner. A partner he will most definitely not be happy about. Please review. Don't own any characters from ouatim.
1. Take it as it comes

Trent and Sam had been sitting in the waiting room of the hospital for three hours and when they call it a waiting room they really must have meant it. They'd been waiting in the cramped empty room for news on Sheldon Jeffrey Sands' condition for six hours. 

"How much longer d'you reckon they'll be?" Trent asked.

"Well," his girlfriend replied. "When you've just had your eyes drilled out of your head and been shot full of holes a nap and a spoon of medicine just doesn't work."

"But what are they even doing, Sam? There's not much they can do, is there? Apart from patch up his eyes and pull a few bullets out but that can't take a full six hours."

"I dunno," she said. The two sat deep in thought for a few minutes until she said, "I'm starving. You fancy anything to eat?"

"Just get me a ham sandwich. I'm not very hungry." He rested his elbows on his knees as Sam stood up to leave. Just as she reached for the door handle, however, it opened, nearly hitting her in the face. A nurse with vibrant red frizzy hair and a thin smile marched through the door.

"You can go in to see him now," she informed them. "But I'm afraid you won't be able to talk to him. He's out cold and should be for another few hours, I should think."

She led them to a cubicle filled with the buzzing of electronic equipment measuring Sands' heartbeat. The man in question was lying unconscious in the bed, looking like some sort of sleeping robot with wires sticking out of his arms and chest. He was deathly pale and there were bandages over his eyes and one on his arm. Trent and Sam presumed there would be more where he was hit on his thighs. They took a seat in the chairs by the bed.

"He looks terrible," Sam whispered, clutching Trent's hand tightly. The pair were close to Sands'.

"Wouldn't you?" he breathed back. "D'you reckon he'll ever be able to see again?"

"I doubt it. The doc said the fuckers left no trace of his eyes. I dunno if he'll be able to get transplants, would he?"

"Not sure," her boyfriend shrugged. "He's going to be one pissed off guy when he gets up and keeps bumping into things. I doubt he's ever been dependent on anyone since he was a kid."

"I don't know. Remember what he was like with Nat?"

"That wasn't really dependent though. He was just one love sick puppy. Besides that ended four years ago."

"I guess. I suppose we'll have to take it as it comes."


	2. Reunited

As Sands' had no family around for miles and he certainly couldn't live by himself, he had had to stay put at Trent and Sam's place in Washington. He did not make it easy for them. 

If he wasn't refusing their help, he was cursing at them for treating him like a baby. He was constantly trying to do everything himself, ignoring any protests he received. He had already cut his hand on a kitchen knife three times as well as slicing open his side when he smashed the glass coffee table by tripping over the rug. If he hadn't been blind they would have found it very funny.

But he was blind. And he hated it. He hated feeling so helpless and frustrated, so dependent on everyone else. Hell, he couldn't even shave by himself.

Sands' bullet wounds had healed with faint traces of scars and he had lost the bandages on his face but there was no hiding the gaping sockets where two beautiful brown eyes once were. He kept his sunglasses on every minute of the day. He couldn't stand the reaction he might get from anyone who saw. He was only too glad that he couldn't see how ugly he now must have looked himself.

But it was the emotional wounds that would take longer to heal. Every night when he finally got to sleep, he was plagued by nightmares, forcing him to relive the pain and horror of what Guevera had done to him. Every night he woke up, trembling and sweating. Every time he slept he saw that drill…

A month and a half after Sands had arrived home from the hospital, he went back to work with Trent. He was to be given a new partner and an assignment. He had a feeling that it would be something to do with clearing up the mess in Mexico. He didn't exactly leave the job completely unfinished but there was still a lot of trouble down there.

Trent left him in his superior's office where he would meet his new partner while he went back to his own work. Sands only had to wait five minutes before his boss, Dylan Rainey entered along with someone else. Sands could hear two sets of footsteps.

"Good morning, Sands," Rainey greeted him and shook his hand. Sands didn't bother to stand up. He sat slouched in his chair and raised his cup of coffee to his lips. "I trust you remember Natalie Ryan." Sands just managed not to spit his coffee all over his boss but it was certainly a close thing.

"Wha…err… yeah but… what the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Boston." There was nothing but coldness in his voice.

"I came back," she replied icily. "I would have thought that was obvious. Even to you." Sands knew she wasn't talking about his blindness there. The two had a history. And it wasn't necessarily good. They had been partners for three years and had got on well. Probably a little too well, if you get my drift. They had been very close for those three years and when Natalie had left Sands he had been heartbroken. He was close to admitting to being in love with her. He had actually thought that they might have had a chance together. She had requested not to be partnered with him for her 'sanity's sake' and so she had been sent to Boston to do something or other for the agency. Sands hadn't really cared at that point. She was gone.

"So why are you here?" he asked coolly. Then a horrible thought struck him. No no no no. They wouldn't have… would they? The agency had had no idea that Sands and Natalie had been doing the horizontal bop in every bed they happened to come across. He turned in the direction of Rainey. "She's not…"

"She's your new partner, Sands." Shit.

"Don't flatter yourself, Shelly, you're not exactly a walk in the park either," Natalie snapped.

"OK!" Rainey had had quite enough of their bickering. Christ, they'd been in the same room for two minutes and already they were at each others' throats. "Please, both of you take a seat."

Sands and Natalie slouched in their chairs at different ends of the desk, refusing to look at each other.

"I need to tell you of your next assignment. Sands, I know how much you hated Mexico and I doubt, after what happened, that you ever want to hear the place mentioned again. However, we have reason to believe that there are still fragments of the Barillo Cartel working there. They are not happy with how things went last time. We believe that they will soon try to avenge their lost and try again. We do not know for sure but we do think that it will have something to do with the President and perhaps his family. We want you both to travel down to Mexico immediately and try to find out what you can. We will have Trent Rivers in the office here. He will remain in contact with you at all times and monitor the movements of the Cartel. With any luck he will be able to keep you both out of harm's way."

"Not much chance of that, if you ask me," Natalie mumbled. "I like danger. You have to like it if you're in the CIA. What other fucked up reason could people have?" Rainey ignored her.

"There is a flight to Mexico at three thirty this afternoon. I want you both to get yourselves prepared and leave on that flight, undercover as a newly married couple on honeymoon. Rivers will be in contact as soon as the flight arrives with directions to the hotel and further instructions. Good luck." And with that he left the room. Sands and Natalie sat in shock.

"No fucking way am I pretending to be married to you…" "Is he kidding? This is gonna be hell…"

At two thirty sharp, Sands and Natalie had met outside the airport, ready for the task ahead. They took out the false I.Ds they had been given and Natalie led Sands towards the small line to check in.

"Not long to wait, eh? That doesn't surprise me. Who'd want to go to that shithole of a country anyway?" Sands murmured, more to himself than to Natalie, who in turn said nothing. "Something wrong, sweetheart?" He stressed.

"Oh no, darling," she retorted scathingly. "After all, there is really nowhere on earth I'd rather be right now than with my gorgeous husband."

They never said another word to each other until they had boarded the plane. Sands sat by the window and Natalie ignored him. They sat through the flight safety procedure and finally they were on their way. As far as they were concerned, the sooner this was over with, the better. After five minutes Sands had become extremely uncomfortable and squirmed in the small space around him. Natalie opened her book and he heard the rustle of the pages as she found the right page.

"So what's that you're reading?"

"A book."

"No shit. You really don't have to have eyes to know that."

"Why do you care? I seriously doubt you've read a book since school."

"I've read my fair share, baby."

She went back to ignoring him and turned to her book. Sands sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking. They'd been in this situation before. Well, one like it anyway.

**Six years before:**

_"There must be something else to do on a fucking plane." Sands grumbled. No answer._

_"I said there must be something else to do," he repeated pointedly._

_"You know as well as I do that, as partners in the field, we're not supposed to sleep together," Nat said, knowing exactly what he had in mind. She sighed, exasperated as he raised his index finger and said,_

_"One. Who said anything about sleeping? Two. As long as we both keep our mouths shut, no one will know a thing. Three. It's just a stupid meaningless suggestion and we wouldn't get in trouble anyway. And four. When has that ever stopped you before?"_

_Nat had to admit, every word was technically true. They'd been sleeping together for almost a year now and they both knew deep down, their relationship was something more than just sex. However, she was as stubborn as he was and hell would freeze over before they'd admit that to themselves, let alone each other._

_Sands leaned over and gently kissed her lips. Soon her heavy breathing and tense body told him that he had achieved what he'd wanted and he broke away slightly._

_"Go to the bathroom," he whispered. "I'll follow you."_

_He waited a few minutes so as not to draw attention to them, then, when his need for her got the better of him, he followed. He knocked once and opened the door, finding her leaned back against the sink. Sands closed the door and they immediately seized each other._

_He took her mouth while he ran his hand under her leather jacket, over her shoulders and it fell to the floor behind her. He shrugged his own jacket off and his hands wandered down her sides. She was wearing a tight low cut top with long sleeves, showing off her slim waist and round breasts and he pulled it over her head._

_He pulled her closer and his fingers searched her bra clasp, trying desperately to undo it. When he had pinged her painfully twice in his haste to get it off, she pushed him away and did it herself. She threaded her arms through it, throwing it to the floor._

_Sands pulled her back and pressed her against him, his arms wrapping tightly around her, cuddling her. He buried his face in her long black wavy hair and kissed her neck. Her fingers worked at his shirt buttons and he pulled it off. She raked her eyes over his lightly muscled chest and licked her lips, his dark eyes watching her closely with amusement and passion._

_His hands moved down her back under her jeans and underwear, gripping her buttocks before moving further under. She was hot and wet and gasped as he brushed her clit. He smiled._

_"You won't be able to walk after I'm done with you," he breathed._

_"I'll take the risk," she moaned and captured his lips with hers while working at his trousers and boxers. They fell to the floor and he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut when her fingers barely brushed his hard sensitive cock. He took his hand from her pants and pulled them down. Finally they both stood completely naked._

_She pulled him to her and backed towards the wall. He kissed her neck as he hoisted her up on to the sink. It felt cold beneath her hot skin. He trailed feathery kisses up to her eager mouth and sank his tongue inside. Sands moaned into the kiss, spreading her legs open wide to allow him closer to his manhood's home. He positioned himself there, rubbing his cock against her clit. Nat felt as though she was about to burst. She needed him to fill her now, more than ever. She shifted into him and her hands found their way down to his tense buttocks, encouraging him to push. He took the hint and with one swift easy thrust, he was deep inside her._

_They remained still for a moment, clutching each other, enjoying the feeling of warmth tingle around their bodies. Then, slowly, Sands began to pull out again, removing his mouth from hers and burying his head in her neck, whining with need. He pushed back in, slightly faster and pushed in hard until he could physically go no further. He nibbled gently at her earlobe, breathing heavily into her ear, holding her as close as possible. She kept her hands firmly pressed onto his ass, as if afraid he would stop._

_Faster and faster went Sand's thrusts into Nat's tight heat. Louder and louder came their hungry moans and cries of pleasure. Soon he was slamming in and out of her so hard and fast it almost hurt but, damn did it feel great. Finally he felt her trembling in his arms and realised it was almost over. At any other time, he would have slowed down to enjoy it for longer but at the moment his painfully erect cock was doing all the thinking._

_With one last thrust, Sands buried himself as deep as possible inside her and they both erupted in ecstasy. She clenched him and he jerked against her, his arms squeezing her tight, her fingernails digging into his ass. When it was over they collapsed against each other, both trying to hold the other up._

_They didn't know how long they stayed like that, joined at the hip, cuddled against each other, her fingers gently running up and down his spine, relaxing his muscles. Far too soon in her opinion, Sands was saying,_

_"That was amazing, baby, but I'm exhausted. Why don't we go and sit back down and have a sleep?"_

_"Sounds good to me," she laughed, feeling him gently pull himself out of her. They dressed between kisses and finally, he took her hand and they found their way back down the aisle ready to dream peacefully in each others' arms._


	3. Mexico

Sands had fallen asleep by the time the plane was about to land in Mexico. Nat elbowed him awake, informing him that they were about to arrive. He sat up and stretched, yawning loudly.

"Well, might as well get this crap over with," he said. They sat still until the plane had come to a complete stop, then stepped down the staircase to the ground. Sands found Nat's hand, not only to stop him bumping into things but to keep up their charade of husband and wife. She collected their luggage and as soon as they were outside of the airport, Sands' phone rang.

"Hey."

"Sands. It's Trent. You and Nat will be staying in the Golden Crown Hotel about ten miles from the airport. I arranged a cab to pick you up from the doorway."

"Golden Crown? Sounds pretty classy for Mexico," Sands replied.

"Yeah well, it's not bad. About the best I could find, I'm afraid. Now I'm waiting for information concerning the Cartel from a couple of spies of mine. I happen to have a contact in Mexico at this moment, looking out for any signs. His name's Simon Clarke. No doubt you'll meet him soon enough."

"Thanks, Trent."

"No problem, buddy."

Sands hung up and turned to Nat. "There a cab at the doorway?" She looked at the black cab waiting patiently a few feet away. The driver was leaning against it, looking tired and hot. She took Sands' hand and led them to him.

"Golden Crown?" the man demanded a heavy accent. Sands nodded and the driver took their bags to load into the trunk. They clambered into the back seat, still clutching each others' hand.

"So you're here on honeymoon yes?" The cab pulled away.

"Uh huh," Nat answered, trying to sound at least a little excited. She saw the driver's black eyes appear in the mirror.

"You look like a nice couple."

Both Sands and Nat shifted uncomfortably at this. They didn't answer. All the time in which they had been together people had constantly told them that they suited each other. They had liked it at the time.

"So what made you think of Mexico? It is not the safest place at the moment, you should know that. There are bad people about. People have been killed. It was on the Day of the Dead. People are saying that someone tried to kill Presidente."

"Is that so?" Sands replied in a bored tone.

"The mariachi saved him. He killed General Marquez. People were very frightened at the rumours. People were saying that General Marquez was trying to overthrow the government. Mariachi is a hero. Have you heard of him?"

"We heard something, yes. Listen, how long will it take to get to our hotel?" Nat tried to change the subject.

"There is no traffic around here anymore. Everyone has been afraid. Many have left Mexico to go to some place safe. So we should be there in ten minutes." He seemed to take the hint and shut up. Nat looked out of the window at the dusty landscape, dead trees and small falling down houses. People walked quickly avoiding other people's eyes. It was like something out of a horror movie.

Finally the cab pulled up at a large hotel. It didn't look exactly luxurious but compared to some of the places they had passed, it was a rare and welcome sight. Natalie pulled Sands out of the car and the driver passed them their luggage, smiling and wishing them an enjoyable visit. He gave a cheeky wink to Sands, who obviously didn't notice, before looking Nat up and down quickly and jumping into his car. The pair entered the hotel, signing in and taking the elevator to their floor. They didn't say a word to each other. Sands followed Nat down the corridor to their door and listened to her turn the key in the lock.

The room was nice. It was clean with a large bathroom and a balcony. There was a thing carpet on the floor but Nat noticed there was only one double bed. She made a decision to ensure one of them slept one on the small couch in the corner. Sands set about feeling his way around the room, getting accustomed to the layout of the furniture, before laying down wearily on the bed.

"So how long's this gonna be kept up?" he asked

"What?"

"The silent treatment, Nat. I'm guessing I've done something wrong here, huh?"

"This isn't going to be a picnic for either of us, Sands."

"Fine," he snapped, sitting up. "Don't you dare try and make out that I'm the one at fault here. You were the one who decided to waltz back into my life. You were the one who left."

"I didn't decide to waltz anywhere. You were the one who got yourself hooked onto god knows how many drugs. So don't you try to put all the blame on me."

"Is that why you left, huh? You couldn't handle the fact I was meddling with a few drugs? Christ…"

"No Sands. This is about you lying to me. About standing me up over and over again. About the girls you slept with. About refusing me when I tried to help you. When all I was trying to do was show you that I cared." With that she broke down into tears. Sands was shocked. She'd only ever cried in front of him once before and that had been a year after they'd met, when her grandmother had died. It still shook him to the bone whenever he heard those heartbreaking sobs. He stood from the bed and moved over to the sound of her crying. He hated not being able to see her. He knew she was beautiful, even when she was in tears.

"Nat, baby. Please don't. I'm sorry." He reached his hand out to her but she backed away from him, tears still pouring down her cheeks. He felt hurt but knew he deserved it. He was such a jerk. Did he really think that he could treat her like dirt and she'd still be there for him by his side?

"No, Sands. Stop it. Please just leave me alone. I'm fine without you. I never chose to come back to you. Please just… just go away for now…I need a shower. I'll see you later maybe." Her voice was shaky and the pain and sorrow was evident. Sands listened as she walked to the bathroom and shut the door. He needed some air. He shouldn't have hurt her like that. Maybe it really was all his fault she had left. He decided to leave the hotel for a while. He could still remember the streets of Mexico like he knew the back of his own hand. He would be safe enough. Perhaps he could go for a tequila. Fuck, he needed one about now. He left and quietly shut the door behind him.

Natalie stepped into the hot shower and let the water run over her aching muscles. Why did he have to be such an asshole? She'd loved him and she thought he knew. He had broken her heart and then he wondered why she had left. Did he care? Did he feel something for her? Did she still feel something for him? The thoughts battled around her head, making her feel upset and tired. She washed herself down and wrapped a towel around her body. Turning off the lamp by the bed, she lay down on her front, falling asleep immediately.

When Sands returned to the hotel room he knew by the still silence that Natalie had gone to sleep. He stood and listened carefully to her soft breathing before silently walking towards her. He knelt beside her and felt for the covers, pulling them up higher around her neck. Her hair was damp; she must have taken a shower. Sands gently drew it back and lay it over her shoulders. He wished he could see her pretty face with its pale skin and tiny nose and full lips. She must look angelic right now. Maybe when all this crap here was over they'd be able to start again where they left off. If she still felt something for him. If she'd let him. He wouldn't blame her if she didn't. He sighed and moved towards the couch, curling up on it and falling asleep. 


	4. Answers and Explanations

When Natalie woke up the next morning, it was to find the room empty. She figured Sands had gone down to breakfast by himself to give her some peace and she was grateful. Her head was feeling pretty messed up at the moment and she needed some time to get her head round things. She wondered where the dining room was, just as her stomach gave a rumble. She was amazed that Sands could find his way around so easily on his own. He had never been one to ask for help.

Dressing in black jeans, a navy blue top and black leather jacket, Nat checked her phone for messages. They were to be contacted with the first instructions as soon as Trent received information off his spies and had any idea what exactly was so fucked up around here. There were no messages so Nat pulled on her black boots, zipped them up and went in search of the dining room. She spotted Sands seated at a table by the window by himself. He wasn't eating anything, just sat in thought. She grabbed a plate of toast and headed over to him, sitting in the seat opposite.

"Hey Sands."

"Nat…I need to talk to you about what happened. I…"

"Sands. I know you hate me for leaving but I had no choice. I loved you and I thought you knew that. But when someone you love so much starts to waste themselves away in front of you and there's nothing they'll let you do to help, it hurts, Sands, so fucking much. I couldn't just sit by and watch you do that to yourself."

"I don't hate you for leaving. But why? Why did it affect you so much?"

Natalie sighed, running her hands through her wavy brown hair. "There's something I never told you, Sands. I'm sorry, I know I should have but it…it always hurt to talk about it." She took a deep breath. "You know that my real father died when I was nine. What you don't know is why." She paused. Tears were stinging her eyes. She'd never told this to anyone, not even her best friend, Charlotte. "He was hooked on heroin. He'd been injecting it ever since I was about three but he never really got seriously ill until I was seven. I remember he used to be in hospital a lot and he was always pale with huge bags under his eyes. I used to ask why he was ill but he just told me I wouldn't understand and one day my brother told me what was really going on. And I didn't." A small tear ran down Nat's cheek. "I couldn't understand. My own dad was dying and I didn't know…I always hated my father when he had died and I realised what had happened. How could he do that to us?" She broke off as more tears fell. Sands touched her hand with his.

"Shhh, baby. It's alright. I'm so sorry, Nat. You should never have had to go through that at that age. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. I had no idea, Nat, I'm so fucking sorry. Please don't cry. Please forgive me, please." He felt like shit. Nat had always been so strong. He couldn't imagine something like that hanging over her life. He really had had no idea. How fucking stupid was he? He knelt down on the floor beside her, holding her hands in his, turning her face towards him. Still the tears fell. "Nat, please don't. I'm so fucking sorry. Everything's my fault, I know that now. Please just don't be upset." Her sobs quietened slightly and she leant forward into his arms, suddenly exhausted.

"I don't blame you, Sands. I love you, I always will. It just hurts so much." She felt him run his fingers through her hair. He could tell she was tired and stood up, pulling her with him. He couldn't stand this side of her, it broke his heart, something he never thought possible anymore. He didn't think he had a heart. He held her by the hand and led her to the elevator, to their room and he tucked her into bed. Within minutes she was asleep again. He sat by the bed, stroking her hair gently, thinking.

She had said she still loved him. Did she mean it like he thought she did? Or was it a 'you'll always be my friend, no matter what' type of love. Damn it, why was it so confusing? When they had broken up, he felt as though he'd had his heart torn out. He'd never loved anything since Natalie and now that feeling seemed to be back. He found himself wanting to care for her, to hold her and kiss her, tell her everything would be alright. But he couldn't do that unless he knew she meant that she loved him back. He groaned softly. Everything was such a mess and they'd only met up again twenty four hours ago.

Sands sat on the couch, thinking and listening to her breathing until she woke up an hour and a half later. He smiled gently at her and she responded with a quiet "Hi". By the time she had had a shower and got dressed it was almost lunchtime and she was feeling slightly better. The two decided to go and find a decent restaurant for lunch. They knew they were both thinking about what they had been talking about but decided not to mention it and just try to enjoy the day. Sitting at the table, having given the waiter the order, they discussed the upcoming assignment.

"When do you think Trent will know something?" Nat asked.

"No idea," he replied, gently holding her hand lying on the table. Although they knew it was a cover-up, it did feel rather nice. "All we can do is wait. What do you say I show you round the finer parts of Mexico while we wait? We'll be bored out of our minds if we don't do something."

"That sounds good to me," she agreed. The waiter arrived at the table, handing them their meals. They ate in a comfortable silence, letting the food fill them up and feeling their worries push to the back of their minds. "Is there anything you eat apart from puerco pibil?" she asked.

He smiled at her. "Sometimes. You can't deny a good tequila though, you have to admit." She smiled and shrugged.

"I suppose."

Sands paid the bill and they took a walk round the streets, Nat looking around at the new place. She couldn't say that she was very impressed with it. Perhaps it had looked better before the Day of the Dead, but now it seemed like a mess. Her sister, Sam, had asked her to bring back a souvenir for her but honestly, Nat couldn't see why she would want anything from here. 

Sands and Nat chatted lightly as the day wore on. They'd walked a long while and it was a hot day. It was almost half six when Sands stomach rumbled loudly again. Nat laughed quietly and he smiled at her. He loved her laugh. They decided to return to the hotel and eat dinner there, as they were tired from the long day. They went up to the room and Nat lay down on the bed while Sands sat on the couch.

"You tired?" he asked her. He heard her shrug.

"Not really. You?" He shook his head. She wanted to ask him something but wasn't sure how he'd take it. "Sands, could I ask you something?" He nodded and she took a deep breath. "What happened on the Day of the Dead? Not here, I mean, with you. Who did that to you?" She saw him tense slightly but he began to answer her in a bitter voice.

"There was this girl I'd been with for a while. I thought I could trust her so I told her all my plans. I was actually going to run away with her after the Day of the Dead, give her a portion of that money but…well I guess it came as a shock when I found out she was Barillo's daughter."

"You were fucking Barillo's daughter? How did you get yourself into that one?"

"She was hot and seemed willing enough. Seemed pretty harmless at the time. Anyway, next thing I knew I was drugged and tied to a table and she watched while Barillo's personal sick doctor drilled my eyes out. Apparently I'd seen too much." There was hatred in his voice and Nat just heard him mumble "That fucking bitch."

Nat was quiet for a while. She was curious. Sure, it would probably look horrible, but she'd seen some pretty fucked up things in her life. "Can I see?" He raised his head in her direction.

"It ain't pretty. You sure you really want to?" He heard her whisper 'yes' and move over to sit beside him on the couch. "Just don't run away scared. I did warn you." Slowly his hand moved to the shades covering his sockets and he removed them, waiting for her reaction. He was surprised to say the least when her fingers lightly touched his cheeks and he felt her lean forwards. Her fingertips massaged his cheekbones, carefully avoiding the holes.

"Does it hurt?" She whispered. He shook his head.

"Not anymore. It nearly fucking killed me when they did it though. I'd never actually wanted to die so badly as I did right then." He paused and heard her shaky breathing. Suddenly she gave a strangled sob, as if she was trying to hide it. "Hey, don't. It's me who's blind, remember?" She nodded, trying desperately to stop the tears. "Don't go pitying me now," he said. 

"Do you ever think about anything but your pride?" she said quietly. He sighed and turned away.

"You don't know what it's like. To always be so calm about everything. So in control. And then some fuckmook goes and pulls the rug from under your feet and you end up flat on your face. You don't know, Natalie. You can't understand."

"Let me try," she pleaded. "Tell me, talk to me. Help me understand." He shook his head. Understanding it would hurt her, fuck her life up like it did to his. How could he do that to her?

"I'm tired," Sands stood up. "I'm gonna go to sleep, ok?" She disappeared to the bathroom to get ready for bed and he lay on the couch. Once again, he fell asleep drifting in his thoughts. 


	5. Things pick up

It was a week before anything really happened, so Sands offered to show Nat around 'the finer parts' of Mexico. It was surprisingly enjoyable and they ended up having a good time together so it was quite easy to believe they were actually a married couple on honeymoon.

Seven days after Sands had shown Nat his eye wounds, they sat in The Flying Cow, eating lunch. Nat had been silent for quite a while and Sands sensed this. He laid his hand over hers and asked her what was wrong. She sighed.

"Sands, have you ever thought about quitting?"

"Quitting?"

"Yeah, like…do you ever feel like you'd just rather have a normal job?" He shook his head firmly.

"Even if I wanted a normal job, a normal job wouldn't get on with me. I'd die being stuck behind a desk or something all day. Why are you asking?"

She hesitated. "Because I can't say that anymore." Sands waited for her to go on. "I don't know…I've been having a good time here, you know. Acting as a married couple makes me think. Maybe I can really be like that some day. Have a proper family. But how could you have that if you were an agent? How could your family live every day, constantly worrying that you might be shot dead at any moment? Sometimes I just think it would be nice to make plans for the weekend and not have to change them because some guy's decided to go and kill someone. I got into the CIA because I knew it would be different to everything else. Unpredictable and spontaneous. But sometimes I just think it would be good to know what's ahead." Nat's voice was small. Sands could tell she was staring at the table but her hand hadn't moved from under his. He wasn't sure what to say.

"One day," he began. "One day you could have all that. You've been in this business for years now. You've only ever been shot twice. You're one of the best. A family of yours wouldn't have to worry about that." She didn't answer. "Life isn't always black and white. You can have it both ways if you want it. If you want it, you can make it happen. You can make anything happen."

Nat couldn't help but feel reassured by his words. How did he always manage to do that? She nodded and looked down at her food. "I'm sorry for blabbing on. I know it can't be that much of an enjoyable topic for you. But thanks anyway."

He shrugged. "Forget it. My pleasure." Nat smiled and amazingly, he seemed to know and smiled back. They finished their lunch in happy conversations and went back to sight-seeing. 

"That's the Presidente's place," Sands pointed up at the huge building, standing behind her, one hand on her shoulder. "And this is where I shot the bitch." He pointed at the ground where he had killed Ajedrez and Nat knew instantly who he was talking about. 

What happened next happened so fast, neither of them had time to move quick enough. A loud bang erupted throughout the square, followed by screaming and running footsteps. Nat heard Sands swear as he pushed her to the ground, crouching in front of her, cocking his gun. "You see anyone?" he asked. She strained to look around from her position under Sands. She just caught sight of a small man in black leather disappear behind the Presidente's palace and then another bigger man in hot pursuit. 

She nodded, knowing he would feel the motion as his hand was on her shoulder. "But he's gone. It was a small man in black leather, then another man, bigger, he was running after him. They ran off behind the building. Oh god, Shel, you're hurt." She sat up, pushing him back gently, touching his shoulder just below where the bullet had pierced. Blood was already seeping through his dark blue jacket. "Oh god…" she murmured. He pulled away slightly and stood up, pulling her with his good arm. He held his wounded arm gently and gestured with his gun.

"Shit it hurts. Could you put this back in my jacket?" Nat nodded in reply and took his gun, uncocking it and slipping it under his jacket.

"We'd better get out of here quick," she said. Sands winced slightly and she led him back to the hotel. Ignoring the anxious looks from people they passed, Nat pulled him along up to the room they were staying in and he collapsed on the bed, in pain. There was blood everywhere and he was hurting. She soaked a sheet in warm water and antiseptic and removed his bloody jacket and shirt. He groaned as he felt the cloth pull at his wound. Nat began to dab gently around the bullet hole, cleaning off the blood before holding it firmly over the wound. He winced and gritted his teeth but didn't fight back. He'd been through plenty of pain in his life. He could handle this.

When Nat was certain the bleeding had stopped, she inspected the wound, noting with relief that the bullet had missed any bone or major blood vessels. She sterilised some tweezers from a medical box she always kept under the bed and began the painful task of removing the bullet. His hands gripped the bed sheets under him and he groaned loudly.

Once he was free, she wrapped his shoulder in a bandage and the pain subsided slightly. He stayed lying down on the bed, breathing heavily.

"Do you want me to get you something for the pain?" she asked. He shook his head. He was obviously tired so she cleared up his blood stained clothes and equipment and headed to the couch. Everything had happened in a flash. They had been trained to act on impulses and not to stop and think about the situation. Stopping to think could mean the end of your life. However, everything was bound to catch up. And, as it usually did, it left Nat exhausted, so she curled up on the couch and closed her eyes.

That's when the phone rang. Loud and harsh. Nat swore. This obviously wasn't their day. 

"What?" she snapped, picking up the receiver. 

"Nat?" It was Trent. "I heard what happened. Is Sands alright?"

"As good as can be expected. He's all bandaged up and he's asleep at the moment. Who the fuck was it, Trent?"

"I had Simon Clarke watching your back. He saw what happened and contacted me. He knew who the shooter was, but he got away."

"So…" Nat said impatiently. She wasn't in the mood for this. "Who was it?"

"Tom White. He owns the Black Boar in the centre of Mexico. We have reason to believe he's something to do with the remaining cartel."

"Of course he's with the cartel, Trent, where have you been? But let's cut the crap. What do you want us to do?"

"Meet up with Clarke in the Flying Cow tomorrow at twelve thirty. You guys need to talk. You can trust Clarke. He's a good man. He knows what he's doing."

"Right, well, if there's nothing else, I'll be off, yeah? Thanks for your help. I'll tell Sands you rang. Give my love to Sam. See ya."

"Over and out." 


	6. Falling back in love

Thanks for reviews. Much appreciated. Anyway, on with the story!

* * *

Nat woke in the middle of the night to Sands' yell. Her eyes flew open to find him sat bolt upright in bed. Even from her position on the couch, Nat could tell he was trembling. What had happened? She'd never seen him like this. Sheldon Sands was never scared. Of anything.

She slowly crawled off the couch, making sure to make a noise so that he would know she was there. She reached over to touch his shoulder but he pulled away and moved to the wall, his arms around his middle.

"Sands…" Nat almost pleaded with him. What was wrong with him? He shook his head at her, not saying a word. Deciding to try her chances, she cautiously approached him, her hand outstretched as though he was a wild animal she wanted to tame. "Don't push me away, Sands, not again. I want to help."

"You can't help and you know it," he hissed. "You know… you know it all. You saw what they did to me." Nat sighed, realising. He must have had a nightmare. God knows, she couldn't exactly blame him. She'd probably have locked herself away and gone mad if anyone had ever done that to her. But Sands hadn't and she had to respect him for trying to carry on with his life, not treat him like a young boy who had just experienced a bad dream about monsters under the bed. She dropped her hand. "Fine," she said, coldly. "Just don't be surprised when you find yourself alone again pretty damn soon." Uh oh, now the tears started. Why was he always such a bastard? "God, Sands, why can't you just accept that someone on this goddamn earth cares about you. Even if you don't care about them." He didn't answer and Nat wasn't sure if that was due to his being cold or his just being at a loss for words. She turned away and headed for the door to the hotel room. She had fallen asleep with her clothes on and could handle a little walk around Mexico on her own.

Sands, however, had other ideas. Just as her hand had touched the door handle, his larger hand appeared above her, slamming against the door, making sure she wouldn't open it. Resigning from her intentions, she turned, eyes on the floor. His fingers slid down the door to the lock, turning it, before he moved both his hands to her shoulders.

"You're not leaving," he whispered. Was that a note of desperation in his voice? Her suspicions were confirmed when he spoke again. "Please, baby, don't do this to me."

Against her will, tears started leaking down her pale cheeks. "And what about what you're doing to me, Shel? I don't even know you anymore. You're so different to when I first met you. Is this because of the drugs, Shel? Tell me because I really am screwed up in my mind at the moment. I don't know you anymore…I don't know you but I still love you…"

"I'm sorry," he breathed, pulling her into his arms, her face buried in his uninjured shoulder. Her tears soaked his shirt but he didn't care. All that mattered right now was this, them. "I'm sorry, baby, please forgive me. I'm such a fuckmook. I don't even know myself anymore. Please don't leave, I don't know what I'd…I lost you once…"

"And why was that, Sands?"

"Because I'm a dickhead. Because I loved you and I was so scared to admit that to you. Hell, I was so scared to admit it to myself but it was true. And because I'd never told you, you always thought I felt nothing for you and you left. And I realised that, baby, as soon as you'd gone. And that's when I finally admitted it, sweetie, to myself, to everyone. I love you so much and it nearly killed me when I'd lost you." He couldn't believe he was opening his heart up to her like this but he meant every word. She was the only woman he had ever loved in this way. Silent tears were still streaming down her face and he ran his thumbs over her cheeks, kissing her on the forehead. "Do you want to leave?" he asked.

She shook her head. "God, Sheldon, everything's such a mess. But I love you. So fucking much. I love you so much right now…" He silenced her ramblings with a gentle and loving kiss to her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned. Her hands moved to his shoulders like they always did when he kissed her and his hands wandered up and down her sides. His fingers caressed her shoulders, before sliding down her arms to her hands. He broke the kiss and gently led her back to the bed, giving her plenty of time to think about whether this was what she wanted. When his legs finally hit the bed, Nat still hadn't shown any sign of resisting so Sands turned them around, slowly lowering her to the bed. His mouth covered hers and her tongue slipped through his lips, searching, exploring once more.

Leaning back, Sands pulled off his shirt and let her run her hands down his toned chest. He lifted her off the bed slightly, pulling up her black top and she lifted her arms to aid him in his task. He unhooked her bra, throwing both items to the floor beside the bed. He laid Nat back down and ran his fingers through her tangled hair. As he leaned over to kiss her neck, he felt her leave feathery kisses across his shoulder and then across the front of his neck to the bandage covered one. She was very gentle, knowing how much it would hurt him if she pressed too hard. Sands captured her lips again, his hands pulling down her jeans and underwear, her boots coming off as well as he pulled the whole lot off her ankles.

How he wanted to see her right now. Just one more time, to look over her beauty, to see her gorgeous body writhe and squirm beneath him. He ran his hands over every inch of her, trying desperately to compensate for his blindness. Her fingers found their way into his pyjama pants, grasping his manhood firmly and he gasped. Nat's own breathing was heavy as well and every time his mouth or fingers reached a pleasurable spot he would receive a delightful moan from her, causing more desire to spread to his nether regions. He knelt back and ridded himself of the last piece of clothing keeping them apart. Settling between her thighs, his lips kissed and nibbled at her neck, moving down to her breasts, sucking on her nipples, causing her to groan out his name.

"Natalie…" Sands moaned as he pushed slowly into her. She arched her back and groaned once more, feeling herself stretch after so long. God, they'd missed each other. He gave them both a moment just to get used to the feeling, before slowly pulling out again. His mouth worked at her neck and her breathing became heavier as Sands continued at his torturously slow pace. The tight knot in Nat's abdomen became heavier and she whimpered quietly as he pushed slightly harder.

"Sands…" she gasped before his mouth stifled any more sound from her lips. He moaned into her mouth as he felt her tighten around him, her climax reaching her with her barely making a sound. He slowed down further still, releasing her lips from his, letting her catch her breath before picking up his pace rapidly, deeper and faster. They gasped and moaned, kissing and sucking at each others' skin and Sands' hand found its way between her thighs, gently pressing and teasing her into her second orgasm. She groaned and sighed his name in pleasure, feeling him start to spasm. His hands found hers and, burying his head in her neck, he let himself spill into her with a long, loud and deeply satisfied groan. He lay gently on top of her, trying not to collapse his whole weight on to her. "I love you, Sands," she whispered. He smiled, for once in his life, enjoying the sound of those three small but special words.

"I love you too, Nat, so much." He heard her sigh contentedly and he just lay, not knowing for how long exactly, listening to the soft sounds of her breathing as she fell into a peaceful sleep. Gently, he withdrew himself from her, instantly feeling cold so he moved to her side, gathering her into his arms and wrapping the bed sheets around them both. He kissed her shoulder, his lips lingering for a second, breathing in her scent, feeling the beautifully soft skin beneath his lips.

For this night, this short while, he could push everything back, the cartel, work, his wound, their rocky history. Everything he didn't want to know about. He could focus on the warm feeling, throughout his body and mind, caused by the young woman sleeping soundly beside him.

He could imagine her sleeping face, a perfect oval, long black eyelashes and a small full mouth below her small straight nose. Her face was framed with black wavy hair, tousled from their lovemaking, a small ear poking out from the black silk. He smiled, even though his heart longed to look at her, and he pushed the pieces of hair from her face, behind her ear. He planted a small kiss on her forehead, feeling her shift slightly beneath his arms. His grip around her tightened slightly and he allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep.


	7. Plans

Nat woke at 8:30am the next day, still wrapped tightly in Sands' arms. It was early for her; she was definitely not a morning person. However, try as she might, she just could not get back to sleep so she settled herself resignedly against Sands' body. Looking up at him, she watched his features as he slept. He was so gorgeous. She rolled over slightly, partly leaning over him and kissed his lips softly. Just as she slipped out her tongue to lick his lips, she felt him stir beneath her and his hands found her waist. She pulled back slightly.

"Hey you," he whispered tiredly, a small smile growing on his lips. Nat answered with a loving kiss on his lips. Before she could pull away, Sands pulled her down closer to his body and deepened the kiss, his tongue battling with hers, his fingers gently skimming up and down her sides.

Nat moaned into the kiss and pulled back. She folded her arms on his chest, resting her chin on her hands, looking up at him fondly. Her mind suddenly thought back to the phone call from Trent the night before.

"Trent called me last night while you were sleeping." She said. He raised his eyebrows at her urging her to continue. "Simon Clarke reckons he knows who tried to do us in. Ever heard of a certain Tom White?"

"White? Isn't he the fucker who owns the Black Boar?"

"The very same."

"Well fuck me. I thought he was killed in the coup de grace."

"No. Trent wants us to meet up with Clarke at twelve thirty in the Flying Cow. We've got four hours."

"Oh a whole four hours, sugar…What could we possibly do to pass the time…" He grinned and kissed her suggestively on the lips.

"Hmm I wonder…" she replied, giggling as Sands seized her by the waist and flipped her onto her back.

* * *

At 12.30 Sands and Nat were sat waiting in the Flying Cow.

"He'd best not be late," Sands grumbled. Nat rolled her eyes amusedly. Sands had already been through one and a half tequilas.

"He'll be here. Trent said he's fairly reliable," She replied.

"Fairly," Sands snorted. She giggled.

"I'm not late am I?" came a voice from behind her. She turned. "I'm Simon Clarke." He held his hand out and Nat shook it. He did the same to Sands who didn't respond. Clarke remembered about his loss of sight and gave up. From what he'd been told of Sheldon Jeffery Sands, he probably wouldn't have accepted his hand shake if he could see. She motioned for him to sit and he did.

He was a stern looking man, probably a bit older than Sands, with dark red hair and pale blue eyes. He was slim but tall and wore a black suit, accompanied by a black leather briefcase.

"Okay, spill all you know," Sands started, leaning back against his chair casually.

"You don't have to interrogate me, Officer Sands. I'm on your side." Sands would have rolled his eyes if he could.

"Get on with it and stop whining." He said. Nat nudged his leg gently but purposefully with her foot. It usually took Sands a long time to learn to trust new people and until he did, he treated them with as little respect as he could manage. Sands shut up at Nat's motion.

"Right well," Clarke began, opening his briefcase. "I trust Rivers contacted you about yesterday's incident. Tom White is one of few of the remaining Barillo Cartel. We only know of four main people involved at the moment but no doubt they will be recruiting new members."

"This Tom White," Sands interrupted his speech. "I thought he was killed in the coup de grace."

"White had a brother who turned traitor at around the same time. White had him murdered. That's probably what you heard about."

"Do we know who's in charge?" Nat asked.

"James Carlo. He has a half brother, Pablo Carlo. They're in it together. Both equally deadly. Before the Day of the Dead James Carlo was the right hand man of Barillo. Second in command, if you will."

"So who's the other guy we know about?" Sands asked.

"Kevin Andrews. We don't really know much about him. Other than he's a Brit and he can kill a man with a blade from about half a mile away. He's certainly one to look out for."

"So what do we do?"

Clarke reached into his briefcase, bringing out three small black devices. He gave one to Sands and one to Nat. "These can be fitted into an article of clothing, to hide from view. They take in all sound within two metres radius and record it. All three are connected so even if we are five hundred miles apart, we can still hear what is happening to each other through the small earpiece right here. This earpiece can be fitted behind the ear so as not to draw attention and can be hidden by hair or a hat or whatever. I suggest you both wear these when you are apart. They are also a way of communicating with each other without the use of a phone. Trust me, they are 100 reliable."

"Where did you get these?" Sands questioned, his fingers roaming over the little device on the table.

"I'm a spy. I have my contacts. Anyway, next month, there will be a party at the Black Boar for the reopening after refurbishment. That's not all that's changed there though. Tom White no longer fully owns it. Our dear friend Pablo is now co owner. You have to be a member to attend the party but it's a great opportunity to get closer inside if we can manage it."

"You want us all to go and join the club?"

"No. We'd look suspicious. Both Sands and I are well known by the Cartel. I was thinking more about you, Nat. I think you could pull it off. Get in there, start working some charm. It's a risk but you'd be well protected."

"I can handle it," she answered firmly.

"Great," Clarke replied, smiling. He clipped his briefcase shut and stood up. "Well listen, I have to be off now. Nat, if you could sign up at the Black Boar as soon as possible that would be brilliant. Then I'll contact you in about a week. Good luck." And with that he left the restaurant.


	8. Pablo Carlo

Sands couldn't explain the feeling of apprehension and worry that overcame him in the next few days. He had a suspicion that it was something to do with Nat and the upcoming party, though he'd never worried about her before. At least not about her safety. Nat was a highly trained agent. She was good at what she did, much like Sands. But why did he worry about her? 

Two days after their meeting with Clarke in the Flying Cow, Nat left to see about membership in the Black Boar. Standing outside alone, she checked that her earpiece was out of sight, feeling slightly nervous at being alone with murderous people but at least feeling some safety knowing that Sands and maybe Clarke could hear what was going on. She knocked on the door, surprised when it opened almost before she'd finished knocking. A pale faced man peered through the gap.

"Can I 'elp ye?"

"Erm… I'm here to ask if I could possibly gain membership to the Black Boar," Nat replied hopefully. The door opened a bit more as the man stared harder at her face.

"Who are ye? I ain't seen ye roun' 'ere before."

"I'm new in town," she said quickly. "I've only been here a week and I heard that this club is reopening and…" The man raised an eyebrow. She continued. "Could I talk to Mr. Carlo please?"

"Mr. Carlo's busy. 'e is in a meeting," he snapped.

"Oh," she said, thinking fast. "Well, could you please tell him I dropped in and get him to call me when he isn't in a meeting?"

"I don't think…" He stopped suddenly and Nat jumped as a tanned hand appeared on his shoulder. The door opened wide and the pale faced man withdrew his face from the door. Standing in front of Nat now was a dark haired smiling man, obviously Mexican. He was average height and skinny but Nat wasn't naïve enough to believe that this made him harmless. She immediately knew him to be Pablo Carlo.

"What can I do for you, Miss?" His voice was highly accented.

"Err…would I be able to join the Black Boar?"

His grin widened considerably and Nat was sure she saw his black eyes flicker down her body. "Of course, Miss, it would be a pleasure to have such a…pretty lady join for the reopening. Why don't you come in?" She nodded and followed him into the dark building.

This room was obviously the hallway although you could probably fit a small house into it. A large table stood in the centre and the walls were lined with paintings. The pale faced man was nowhere to be seen. There were three other rooms leading off and Nat was led through the one opposite. As she stepped through the doorway, what met her eyes made her gasp.

She was standing in a huge dance club with a dance floor and stage at the front and a massive bar at the back. The room reached up to the roof, with balconies beneath the glass top. The lighting was dim and blue and Nat had to blink several times to let her eyes adjust. Carlo led her down a small set of stairs down to a table by the dance floor. Opening the jacket of his suit, he took out a pen and a sheet of paper.

"What's your name, darling?" he said to her chest, more than to her.

"Natalie," she replied, deciding to use her alias. "Natalie Parkinson."

He smiled. "Your name is very beautiful." He turned to gaze at her intently and she began to feel uncomfortable when he refused to turn away. Bloody hell. No one had creeped her out just by looking at her since she was a kid. Eventually he turned back to his paper and asked her a few more details.

"You are welcome any time you like, Miss Parkinson. Is there anything you would like to ask?"

"Yes. Is there any fee I should pay?"

"There should be," he nodded. "But I think I can let you off that one. Seeing as it would be…such a pleasure to have you here." She backed up slightly as he stepped closer, grinning, almost maliciously. She felt her back against the wall. Oh my god, what's happening? She screamed in her mind. She forced herself to look at anything, anything but those dark endless eyes. They reminded her of Sheldon's but without any warmth. With a look so cold it could probably freeze you to death. She couldn't look, in case that happened to her.

"I have to go now," her voice sounded miles away. She knew she was being stupid. Men had come onto her before and she managed to keep her cool. She held her breath, watching as he reached out to brush his fingers down her cheek. "Bye," she said hurriedly and almost sprinted out of the door.

Outside in the bright sun, she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the day seep back into her. She closed her eyes. What the hell was all that about? She checked her watch. She'd been in there for half an hour and that was more than enough for her. She dreaded going back. Right now, all she wanted was to be as far away from that club as possible.

She returned to the hotel and Sands opened the door for her before she even had a chance to find her key.

"You're back? You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said, startled. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it is now, how did it go?"

"He is one hell of a creep, Shel, I almost began to think we were dealing with vampires or something." She heard him chuckle and smiled, moving towards the fridge to get a drink, only finding nothing but tequila and a few limes. She rolled her eyes, deciding to settle for a glass of tequila.

"So what's the plan now?" she asked Sands. She watched as he sat in the chair by the balcony, facing the sound of her voice.

"You make a connection with Carlo, find out what you can."

"Urgh, great, it's really not the most pleasant of places to go, I can tell you," Nat shuddered.

"Nothing much else to do until Clarke contacts us again," Sands paused. "Shit, this case is fucked up. We hardly have anything to work with."

"We'll get there in the end. We always do."

He nodded but didn't reply. Nat knew he liked to be active, to be in doing what he knew how to do best. He wasn't the type to sit around and wait In the meantime, however, they had a lot to catch up on.


	9. Trust

Sorry for the long wait. And I'm really sorry this chapter is so short but I'm kinda busy at the moment. I'll be back on track asap though. Stick with me!

* * *

Days passed with Sands and Nat regularly keeping watch on the city for any unusual behaviour, though it was fairly unsuccessful. Trent had contacted them once or twice with new information he'd found on the Cartel members that they might find useful.

Nat would dread the evenings when she would be expected to visit the Black Boar, though she made sure she was well armed and Sands was in easy hearing when she went. She knew he wasn't happy about her going in alone but there was nothing that could be done and she had to keep reminding them both that she was a fully trained agent. Still, Sands seemed uneasy but he would never talk about what was on his mind.

It was on her fifth visit to the Black Boar that anything interesting really happened. Instead of being met at the door by Carlo and led in to have a drink, he sat her down at a table, sitting opposite her, staring at her intently. Feeling his gaze, Nat avoided his eyes and stirred her drink with the straw.

"I trust you do know about our party in a few weeks?" he finally asked. She looked up. She had been counting on the fact that she would be invited, otherwise this whole thing was pointless. She needed to get as close as possible. Keep friends close and enemies even closer type of thing. Saying nothing, she nodded. He grinned. "You would be able to attend, yes? Three weeks tomorrow?"

"Of course, I'd love to," she replied, looking up at his nose, still avoiding his stare. He smiled.

"Good."

* * *

"Looks like we're in," Sands said. They were sat in their hotel room, looking through files on the surviving Cartel members, which, for some reason, were rather short.

"Joy," Nat said, sarcastically. "For fuck's sake, why are these so short? Why can't we get anything on them? It doesn't add up. Nothing's right." Frustrated, she stood and moved to the balcony, resting her elbows on the railing, her head in her hands. She was aware that Sands had followed her silently but didn't say anything. She felt his hand lightly rest on her lower back, his thumb stroking the skin under her shirt.

"We'll get them, you know we will," he assured her.

"How can you be so sure?"

"It's what you told me last week, remember?"

She turned and looked at him. There was a small smile playing on his lips, almost a smirk, that smile that made her knees feel like jelly. He took her arm and pulled her gently to him, meeting her lips softly. Her arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss. His tongue massaged hers, before tickling the roof of her mouth and then pulling back slightly as he pecked once on the lips. His fingers trailed lightly down her bare arms and he took her hand in his. He pulled her slowly back into the room, closing and locking the door. Nat had a feeling that if he had eyes, they wouldn't have left hers for a second.


End file.
